Renouncing Rituals
by Kentra02
Summary: Duo's lonely lifestyle seems to only bring him pain, not the love he's longing for. When he encounters a dancer in a night club, will he be rewarded with true love, or just more pain?
1. 1

Title: Renouncing Rituals   
  
Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Pairings: 2x5x2  
  
Archive: http://www.deathandpassion.cjb.net  
  
Category: Romance/Angst  
  
Rating: R/NC-17   
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Warning: AU, prostitution, language, angst-ish, past NCS, citrus, probably some 'Fei-torture (or mentions of it…)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Duo or 'Fei. Get it? Got it? Great, now we can get along. I will be owning the OC's, but hey, they're not a huge part in this story, they're just there for the plot. ::shrug::  
  
Feedback: You betcha, positive and negative are both encouraged^-^  
  
Notes: Part one is shorter than I plan on making each part. I just didn't want _too_ much to happen yet. I've got to reel you in first ^-~ This fic was inspired by my recent trip to Myrtle Beach, SC, where, although I visit every summer, I've never quite noticed the ridiculous amount of clubs, bars, and sex toy/video/accessory stores until last week. I thought this up in the car, go figure.   
  
**********  
  
Renouncing Rituals: Part One  
  
The night was the same as any other; it was still humid, windy, and hot, and the stench of alcohol and sweat encircled him, the way it did every night. Another town, another night, another bar. Duo Maxwell was getting bored. The lonely lifestyle was really getting to him. He hadn't been in town long, but as soon as he arrived, he realized there were enough clubs and bars to last him at least a month. Some he had returned to for a second chance, and some he'd walked out of without a second glance. But here was something new, something different, here was something that intrigued him, and wasn't leaving until he found it.  
  
He hated the way that this club was filled with older men, just like oh-so-many of the gay clubs before it. They were just old perverts who came to watch the young and beautiful boys pole dance. He hated that they stared at him with the same lust-glazed eyes, him, clad in skin-hugging, chocolate leather pants, a tight khaki shirt revealing his midriff and cutting down his chest in a deep, sharp V, the light silver shimmer smudged around his violet-blue eyes and the cherry gloss on his lips. Could they possibly think he would be interested in _them_, or did they think he was part of the entertainment? As most of them were about twenty years older, he assumed the latter; he was dressed to kill, if he did say so himself, and strangely enough, the boys in this club looked about his age or younger, and he was sure that most of them weren't legal since he was barely over twenty-one himself. No wonder there were so many old perverts hanging around, they just wanted a piece of young ass. It wasn't the sex that caught Duo's interest, though, not entirely. He was looking for love, however cliché that sounded, and for a young gay man, love could be one of the hardest things to find.   
  
Which is what lead him to his current situation, cruising a different bar or club each night, moving on to a different town when there was no where else to continue his search. He worked odd jobs at fast food restaurants and such, no where that required him to lay down roots, but money wasn't such an issue. He came from a rather rich family, but being the only child when his parents died in a car accident, he had inherited everything. And sold everything, at least everything but his trunk of possessions and the car he lugged it around in, traveling city to random city.  
  
The current random city happened to be Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The heat was nice, though the humidity was a bitch to his long chestnut hair which surpassed the length of his back. He wore it braided tightly, in places like this, to keep it somewhat manageable. However, the heat inside Midnight's Sunset had to have been more than the weather. A place couldn't smell more like sex.  
  
Duo had reached his sixth or seventh drink and still wasn't drunk as he'd like to have been, he was just bored, wondering why he hadn't left the shitty place. Maybe he was just staying to watch the rather enticing boys pole dance. He happened to have a taste for Asians, and all the boys here were very, very Asian. One in particular had caught his eye; the slick way his body flowed, as if he knew nothing but this dance that seemed more to have created the music than vice versa, how his eyes were ablaze with a fire that was both seductive and rebellious at once, his silk sheen raven hair that fell just at his shoulders, everything about him was perfect. Yet everything about him intrigued Duo, because, like himself, the Asian had a look about him as if it were the last place he'd prefer to be. Well, whoever said a guy had to love his job? Cash is cash. But Duo wouldn't just leave it at that.  
  
Discarding drink-number-whatever on the bar, he stood and walked toward the commotion laid before the sexy man he had both eyes on, smoothing his leather over his legs as he went. He wasn't a tall man, reaching just over 5'5", which made crowd navigation a bit more difficult for him than for some, but he managed to shove his way through, not without protests from his older, heavier, and hairier companions. He was more startled than alarmed when a hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned to see a fat drunk grinning stupidly at him. Oh, the people he had to endure.  
  
"Say, I'd pay to take _you_ to a back room."   
  
Duo was sure he didn't want to be in any back room, no matter how much he was paid, with this fool, but he was curious, so he threw on a coy smile and played along.  
  
"I'm sure you would, big fella," he ran a quick glimpse up and down the man's unattractive body, "but how about I give you this and you tell me a little bit about these 'back rooms'." He slipped a bill he guessed was a five from his pocket and into the man's. The guy grinned stupidly some more, then peered at Duo, squinting as if the light was too bright.  
  
"New roun' here, aint'cha? Thought so. I s'pose I coul' tell ya 'bout the back rooms," he aimed a wobbly finger at the young man who seemed to be becoming more beautiful by the second, "See them?" After being satisfied with Duo's impatient nod, he continued, "Well, af'er they done their dancin' , we pay 'em to go to the back rooms. Natchally, they take the highes' bidder, but a cute guy like you shouldn' have no trouble gettin' 'im."   
  
Useful information. Definitely useful.  
  
"Well then," Duo smiled amiably, "" guess if I'm worth the likes of him, I should try my luck with somebody worthwhile." He disappeared through the crowd before the poor fool could work out his words.  
  
Slowly, he made his way toward the 'stage', which was actually more of a platform with three steps. Smoke machines from some obscure point in the ceiling were just giving Duo a headache. Or maybe that was from the drinks. Whatever the case, he was proud to say that he was as composed as a straight man in the erotic Asian's presence, unlike the dogs around him who could barely keep their erections in their pants. For God's sake, the man was actually doing more dancing than stripping. Duo wondered why such pigs of men existed.  
  
Obviously, the dancer was thinking a similar thought, because somehow, out of all the bodies there, his eyes fell on Duo, and for a moment their gazes locked. The eyes that had, at first, seemed so alive with fiery eroticism now only seemed trapped and pleading. Looking into his eyes, even from the slight distance, left Duo hypnotized, and he found it difficult to think when the magnetism between them was broken.   
  
He watched each movement the exotic man produced, every motion, every tremor that touched him, he saw it, he felt it. It felt wrong to be yearning in such a physical sense for a man whose eyes swore that instead of dancing, he was being raped.  
  
The song died down, finally to a close, and immediately another began, the lights shifting to shine upon another Asian body, farther down the platform. The second, however, looked much younger. He was only a boy. Duo looked away in disgust, unable to lust over someone whose voice probably hadn't even changed. His eyes fell once again on the first man who had been dancing, only now he was moving down from his platform and into the crowd of overactive hormonal beasts on the floor before him. Brilliant lights of blue, violet, magenta hues raked his copper skin, but the lights weren't all that were invading his private space. Hands and faces and lips of men, drunk men, fat men, men who couldn't realize pure beauty if it stabbed them in the eye, were all around him, thrusting limbs and cash into every available space. How could they not see that this was killing the poor man, their jeering and prodding making him sick in his loveless heart? Duo could see, he could see it all too well. This man didn't want or deserve this, some twist of fate had tossed him into a life he hated, a life that made him sick.  
  
Duo didn't know if he was simply love-struck by the man's beauty, like every other drooling pig there, or if the drinks were starting to have an influence, or if he had just grown far too bored, but he wanted to help. He wanted to help this man even more than he wanted to get in his pants. In fact, though the idea of having this erotic stranger in bed was quite enticing, the idea also disgusted him as much as the sight of this beauty freely offering his lips and body to all the random jackasses stealing feels of him.  
  
Duo saw him hanging around the neck of the man that had earlier introduced him to the idea of the back rooms, their lips intertwined, and the Asian's leg tangled around the drunk's knee. All the man put into the band of black leather around the dancer's flat stomach was the five dollar bill Duo had placed in his pocket not long ago. Amazing what someone would do for five bucks. Duo wondered how two hundred would captivate him.  
  
He pushed past the sweaty crowd, working his way towards the angel doing the devil's work, and approached him from behind, his arms snaking around his chest. He had two bills rolled between the fingers of his right hand.  
  
"They call me Duo," he murmured against his ear, holding the money at the level of the Asian's charcoal eyes, "Does two hundred get you and me one of these back rooms I've been hearing about?"  
  
The dancer's eyes followed Duo's hand and cash to the waistband of his leather pants, where Duo made sure it was very securely tucked.  
  
********** 


	2. 2

Title: Renouncing Rituals   
  
Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Pairings: 2x5x2  
  
Archive: http://www.deathandpassion.cjb.net  
  
Category: Romance/Angst  
  
Rating: R/NC-17   
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Warning: AU, prostitution, language, angst-ish, past NCS, citrus,   
  
probably some `Fei-torture (or mentions of it…)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Duo or `Fei. Get it? Got it? Great, now we   
  
can get along. I will be owning the OC's, but hey, they're not a   
  
huge part in this story, they're just there for the plot. ::shrug::  
  
Feedback: You betcha, positive and negative are both encouraged^-^  
  
Summary: Duo's lonely lifestyle seems to only bring him pain, not   
  
the love he's longing for. When he encounters a dancer in a night   
  
club, will he be rewarded with true love, or just more pain?  
  
**********  
  
Renouncing Rituals: Part Two  
  
Duo's first thought of the room could only be worded as 'tacky'. Sure, there was an attempt to make it appear sexy, but the white walls and lonely pale light bulb decorating the ridge textured ceiling, the spongy, hotel-like bed, and the sex toys, including handcuffs and a whip spread out on the little table just didn't kick it for him. There was an ice bucket with champagne, seeming completely out of place. It had probably been thrown in for the price he had paid. Though, in other places, two hundred dollars wouldn't have been enough for even a private 'meeting'. If two hundred was enough to get him any sort of special treatment, he was afraid to find out what a suitable price was in a place like this.  
  
He couldn't imagine going through this, night after night, man after ugly man, and not even earn decent wages for it. Nobody deserved to live that way. Images of the man he had seen ten minutes before came flooding back to him, the way he moved, dripping with seduction while his eyes screamed in terror. No, nobody deserved it, especially not someone so beautiful, somebody who so badly dreaded it.  
  
Duo sank into one the mismatched chairs that rested near the table, propping his elbows casually against the back, and threw his feet over the other chair. One of the decorative ties on his rolled-down brown boots had worked it's way undone during some point in the evening, but fixing it wasn't one of his top priorities at the moment. He couldn't keep his thoughts from the exotic man who had just danced his way into his life. He snorted to himself; he didn't even know the guy's name, but he couldn't get his face, body, and the way they moved out of his head. He never let himself fall for a guy that easily, situations like that could only cause pain. He had learned that lesson the hard way, and he didn't want to relive the mistake. A shiver ran down his spine. He didn't need to think about past relationships right now.  
  
There was a timid knock on the white washed door. Perfect timing.  
  
"Come on in," he purred casually. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep such a dominant tone when the beautiful man's face peaked into view; even though the man was obviously a natural submissive- his silk fluid body language practically screamed it- something about his honey-languid body seemed to keep control.  
  
Duo's eyes raked his tanned and toned skin, wondering how he could dare to deny anything to this erotic display of sex on legs. He was no longer clad in the midnight dark leather that blended flawlessly with the colour of his hair and eyes, but was draped in thin, white pants hanging in loose folds around his legs, and a very sheer black shirt, clinging tight to his arms and torso. Duo was almost disappointed to see the change in wardrobe, but one glance at a tantalizing garment of black visible through his pants, and he realised that the leather garments would have been the downfall of his resolve in this private little room. The pathetic, tacky furnishings no longer seemed to matter, all that he could see, all that was around him was the aura, the scent, the very essence of the beautiful being, deep charcoal eyes staring into his.  
  
He stepped into the room almost shyly. To think that someone who made money from displaying his skin could still dream of hiding his body just seemed a little… _off_ in Duo's book. But it just proved his character more, and the wary actions helped Duo to talk his thoughts down from the ledge where they were waiting in anticipation to jump on the Asian man. He knew that many of the older guys, like the ones that had been out in the crowd, enjoyed a nervous display, made them feel like a big man screwing a little virgin boy. Luckily, Duo had screwed his own share of virgins and was pretty damn sure he could find another one if he really wanted. The way the man moved wasn't an act. He really hated what he was doing.  
  
Duo's eyes finally, cautiously met his. He could almost physically feel the pain trapped beneath the glossy gaze. He was certain now, as he hadn't been before, that the man was Chinese, and lifted him out of the generic 'Asian' category. He hadn't been able to tell what definite nationality his features displayed from the distance that had previously separated them.  
  
The Chinese man narrowed his eyes in what was intended to be a seductive manner, but couldn't quite mask his unease. His eyes never left Duo's as he moved toward him, his body possessed by pure grace, flowing as if he were merely liquid shaped into a molded form of perfection.  
  
He paused aside the chair where Duo's feet were propped. Duo's breath caught when the man let his eyes flicker down his legs and back to his face in a heartbeat.  
  
"Here, allow me to make you more comfortable," he whispered, sinking to his knees and running his hand along the ties of Duo's boot. The words rolled from his tongue as fluidly as his body moved and Duo was impressed that he spoke as articulately as his beauty shone. Most guys like this, though never as beautiful, talked like the trash they were.  
  
Before Duo could fall under the spell, he drew his feet back and set them on the floor, slightly amused at the skeptical look etched on the man's face.   
  
"That won't be necessary," he said, pleased to have maintained a dominant edge in his voice, "Why don't you have a seat?" He held out his hand indicating the chair his feet had just occupied. He felt rude offering the seat which probably carried dirt from the soles of his shoes, but in a place like this, everything was dirty anyways. Besides, the man had come in contact with things much dirtier than shoes, no question.  
  
The man sat, following the odd request, but once seated, he shifted his chair nearer to Duo. Duo didn't make any motion to stop him, though he was severely testing his control.  
  
"What's your name?" Duo asked casually.  
  
"What does my name have to do with anything?"   
  
Duo could feel his irritation; he probably just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.  
  
"Just tell me."  
  
The Chinese man looked at him hesitantly, his eyes narrowed, this time in annoyance.  
  
"Wufei," he said reluctantly, glancing away from Duo's eyes for a moment.  
  
"Wufei..." Duo mused, "A beautiful name to match a beautiful man." Wufei's eyes hardened.  
  
"What do you want? Are you going to do it or what?"  
  
Duo was inwardly surprised at the outburst, but didn't let it show on his face. He thought the man would welcome a break from an endless sea of sex and sweat he didn't want anything to do with, especially a man like him whose eyes screamed in pain.  
  
"'Do it'?" Duo echoed, keeping the dominant figure, "Who says I'm going to _do_ anything?"  
  
"You had better be doing _something_ because I really need that money," he returned haughtily.  
  
Now Duo understood; Wufei was afraid he'd just demand his cash back and walk out the door. Like that was going to happen.  
  
"Don't worry, Wufei, the money's all yours. In fact," he fished another bill from his pocket, "take another fifty." Wufei stared at him, incredulously fingering the money that had just been thrust into his hand. "There. Now, is that enough to buy some of your time?"  
  
Wufei nodded slowly, uncertainly. "So, you're not here for...?"  
  
"No," Duo answered, a harsh edge piercing his voice, before the question was even finished, "No, I just wanted to give you a break. You may be the most beautiful guy I've ever seen and one _hell_ of a great dancer, but I know you're not exactly enjoying what you do."  
  
The sharp glare in Wufei's eyes faded to a soft ember. It was a good guess that nobody had ever done anything like this for him before.  
  
"You can tell that easily?" A sort of sad smile curved softly over his lips.  
  
"No, actually I can't. Your eyes are the dead give away," he answered honestly, "but, you know, none of the slobs here would be paying attention to something like that."  
  
Wufei's head cocked slightly to the left, giving him the sort of expression similar to that of an inquisitive puppy.  
  
"...Exactly. So, why do you?"  
  
Duo smiled, mimicking the sad expression Wufei had just displayed. "Because I'd like to think I'm not like the other guys that come around here."  
  
"You're not. I don't even understand _why_ you're here. It's rare to see guys like you around." Wufei must have finally realized that Duo wasn't just going to grab him for a quick fuck, because his body relaxed visibly and he let his back ease against the wood of the chair.   
  
"Because as much as I like to think I'm different, I'm really just the same."  
  
********** 


	3. 3

Title: Renouncing Rituals   
  
Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Pairings: 2x5x2  
  
Archive: http://www.deathandpassion.vze.com  
  
Category: Romance/Drama  
  
Rating: R/NC-17   
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Warning: AU, prostitution, language, angst-ish, past NCS, citrus,   
  
probably some `Fei-torture (or mentions of it…)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Duo or `Fei. Get it? Got it? Great, now we   
  
can get along. I will be owning the OC's, but hey, they're not a   
  
huge part in this story, they're just there for the plot. ::shrug::  
  
Feedback: You betcha, positive and negative are both encouraged and longed for and all that jazz.  
  
Summary: Duo's lonely lifestyle seems to only bring him pain, not   
  
the love he's longing for. When he encounters a dancer in a night   
  
club, will he be rewarded with true love, or just more pain?  
  
**********  
  
Renouncing Rituals: Part Three  
  
The shady, bleak sand hid his feet and hands beneath it's dusty outer layer, the moon illuminating a pathway over the steady black rolling water and highlighting his own facial features. His hair fell halfway braided, the lower strands drifting in the wind, ending up splayed behind him on the sand. The sounds of the waves gave him a tranquil mind, though he wasn't usually one for sappy ideas like that. He frequented coastal locations, though, when he chose 'homes' because of the ocean, despite the heat, which he was none too fond of.   
  
But no matter what spell the dark waves laid over him, tonight his mind was woven too deeply in the enchantment that called himself Wufei. He still couldn't believe somebody could live that way. He chewed on a dull fingernail that had been chewed down far too many times and made a face of disgust at the metallic taste of chipping black nail polish. He definitely had to quit putting things like that in his mouth.  
  
He scolded himself for being so drawn with the man. He had only just met him and though their conversation had extended for some time, it wasn't grounds for a relationship. He didn't know him. Besides, he tried to persuade himself, he was just a dancer. He couldn't fall in love with him. But his mind counteracted that thought almost immediately. Wufei may have been shy and reserved, but it was unfair to call him incapable of love. Actually, Duo was surprised when the young man revealed wit and intelligence.  
  
Which made him even more curious about his situation. A man like him could easily have a college education and a steady job, but instead he was desperate for every dime he could fit in his leather pocket and engaged in derogatory work. Duo would have loved to ask, but every mention of the job and Wufei shied away from him. The last thing he wanted to do was push on a first encounter.  
  
First encounter? What was he thinking? There wouldn't _be_ a second encounter. The man's life was none of his business. He didn't know him, it didn't matter. He had to get him out of his mind. It wasn't right to think so much about someone, no matter if that someone had elegantly arched obsidian eyes and a golden-tanned body that moved with more fluidity than water. He had fallen for meaningless physical seduction before, and though that boy, as they had been at the time at only 18, became his first and only serious lover, the relationship had only lead to horrible pain on his behalf. He definitely tried to avoid such pain when humanly possible, which, thus far, was working pretty damn well if he did say so himself.   
  
Though, there happened to be a tiny hitch in that seemingly perfect plan: loneliness. And the fear nagging the back of his mind that fixing that little problem was going to cost him all the money he had accumulated in his sizeable bank account. Not that he was lacking in that department by any stretch of the imagination; he could probably buy out the shabby hotel in which he had taken up current residence if he really wanted, but he was planning on moving around until he could find a loving partner in his solitude. However, by keeping every possible candidate for the role close enough to fuck but too far to bond, he had a sinking feeling he'd be 'homeless' in his own way for a long time to come.  
  
And as important as this issue was, his slightly lacking attention span was once again spinning his thoughts into fantasies of heated copper skin against his own and a wild, fearless glaze highlighting passionate eyes slanted in a charcoal hue.  
  
A shiver raced just beneath the surface of his skin and he realized it wasn't just from the images poisoning his mind, as lovely a poison as it could be, but the breeze streaming in over the water had taken a definite turn toward chill and was growing in strength, which also meant annoying sand burn on the inches of his exposed skin. He figured that he should possibly check the weather channel once in a while so that he could be as smart as the other beach goers and stay indoors when a storm was blowing in. Besides, as he glanced at the bulge between his legs, he heard a hot shower and his friendly hand calling his name.  
  
+  
  
Humidity is really a bitch, he decided defiantly, running a brush through his hair again and again. Two hours ago he had emerged from the steamy bathroom sated and graced the lonely hotel room with his nude presence, and his hair, though always time consuming, hadn't even begun to dry.   
  
Some crappy romance movie was on the television, and since he didn't feel like wasting his money on pay-per-view or killing his time on anything productive, he endured the unrealistic, sappy crap that polluted the screen. It was so stupid, he knew, but just watching it was prodding the painful ache just behind the hole in his empty heart. He wanted that love so badly, something more than just a one night stand, something based on a truly intellectual level.  
  
After a while, the pain numbed like it always did, and he was tired, tired of the loneliness, tired of the scars of the past, tired of thinking. He eventually drifted to sleep leaning over the back of the chair, his legs entwined around the wood.  
  
+  
  
An annoying beep startled him from his uncomfortable position so much that he nearly fell out of the chair. The first thing that sprang to his mind was that his hair was still wet, but the half that was dry had turned into a monster of living frizz. Well, his _very_ first thought was something along the lines of 'What the _hell_ is that sound?!', but it didn't take long to realize that it was his watch alarm. Which shouldn't be a surprise, of course, because he had to go to his lame ass job at Bojangles [1] today. He really didn't need the extra money yet, but it was something _normal_ for him; he wasn't exactly normal in any sense of the word. Somebody _normal_ wouldn't sell off multiple plots of valuable property, cars worth more than his own life, and even servants to run off in pursuit of some invisible romance. Most young men would do anything before giving up that lifestyle or one remotely resembling it. Most young men like that, though, could easily find young girls who would flock to him for his wealth. Duo didn't want girls, and he didn't want somebody who couldn't see past his money. That wasn't a life.  
  
He scooped his tresses into a loose braid, trying to flatten the monster that called itself hair and methodically dressed himself in his yellow and red work uniform which screamed something comfortably nestled halfway between 'I'm gay' and 'I'm poor'. He didn't grab any breakfast; a lunch of work's fried chicken would have enough calories to carry him through _two_ days. He finished off his sloppy look by spreading his habitual chap stick over his lips and tucked it securely in his back pocket before setting out on foot down King's Highway [2]. Ten minutes on foot was normal in this town.  
  
+  
  
He sprawled himself over a folding chair in the break room and brushed his bangs away from his eyes for what must have been the billionth time in the four hours he'd been working. The temperature had climbed to unbearable height, about one hundred and six degrees, and not for the first time he caught himself wishing he had the ambition to move to a cooler area like Washington or Colorado or Wyoming. He hadn't ever left the east, being born and raised in Massachusetts, and was sort of reluctant to do so yet in his two years of travel. But heat like this really drove him insane and the air conditioning was broken, yet again, leaving him with a cheap little fan and the feeble breeze that floated through the drive thru window.  
  
Luckily for him, the break room was a lower level of it's own and had three large floor fans. It was also empty. He worked in a smaller restaurant of the branch, where there were only six or so to a shift, and right now his pimply young comrades at the register, Cal, Kreu, and Rein, were up in the heat while he enjoyed every second of his twenty-five minute break. An empty room left his thoughts free to wander wherever they dared to go, and since they seemed to be steadily trekking back to the Asian beauty from last night, he figured that was a good thing.   
  
It really bothered him that the seductive, catlike man with ebony eyes was on his mind so much, but he really couldn't control it. He was sexy, intelligent, and practically scared out of his wits to live. There wasn't much not to like about him.   
  
He decided, then, that he had to see him again, just one more time.  
  
+  
  
The hair around his face was curling into chestnut ringlets even as he held it with a straightening iron, trying to tame it. Casting a scowl at the white bottle of de-frizzing product, he decided tonight to stop and get something new or move to a better climate. Cutting his long, satin strands wasn't even an option; it was worth the hassle to know he had better hair than most of the girls who wanted to date him. Besides, it was one of those things his parents had always hated and he had kept in spite of them. His lover had made him keep it, too. It wasn't worth it to cut his locks now.   
  
He gave up on getting his stubborn hair straight and tossed the straightening iron into the bathroom sink in annoyance. Though his usual braid was flashy for a young man and never failed to win people over, a little variety was always in order. He contemplated the alternatives for a few moments before reaching for a little bag in which he kept his 'face highlighters' as he liked to call his makeup and withdrew a sheer black ribbon edged in gold trim. He then pulled his hair into a low ponytail, fastening the ribbon in the band, and then braided it as usual, weaving the ribbon through his hair as he went, making it look like a streak of black lowlights. After securing the tail of the braid, he blew his hair dryer over it a few minutes, luckily with minimal frizz.   
  
Then, dumping the contents of the makeup bag on the counter, he chose lip liner of such a deep crimson that it was very nearly black and a shimmering vanilla gloss to glaze the top, chocolate eyeliner that could have been edible, and a faint black glitter to ghost around his eyes. While dressing his still-boyish face, he wondered with an amused smile if the young girls at work would still be going after him if they saw him with makeup on. Their annoying swooning would probably turn to spiteful laughs of disgust. Unless gay guys turned them on... then he'd at least be able to have something in common with them.  
  
He finished with his face and moved onto dressing the rest of his sensual body. After checking himself over thrice in the bathroom mirror and stuffing a sizeable wad of cash in his pocket, he headed down three flights of steps to the parking lot and set off on foot once again for his nightly ritual.  
  
Any other night, he would have stopped to engage himself in petty conversation with the men who cast an interested, appreciative glance over his body, but not tonight. Tonight, his million dollar looks weren't for sale. He looked good-- better than usual, actually-- and he damn well knew it, but tonight he was saving the sexy sights for just one man.  
  
**********  
  
[1] Bojangles is a sort of fast food chicken place. They're all over the freakin' place in Myrtle Beach. I don't really like chicken, but they have good mashed potatoes and cider, I must say.  
  
[2] King's Highway is one of the main roads that runs parallel to the beach. It has pretty much everything you need somewhere on the road.  
  
********** 


	4. 4

**********  
  
Renouncing Rituals: Part Four  
  
The same stench stretched over the same sweaty oasis of sex and cynical, dubious, obscure, eyes which greeted him past the second set of double black doors that beckoned him into the Midnight Sunset. The same repulsive crowd littered the bar and the bodies of young and stunning men giving their essence and cadence for little or nothing. The same dark and murky tempo rolled from inadequately hidden speakers. The same. Always the same. And the piteous 'employees' who squandered their lives here endured the same vile truths night after night.  
  
He picked up a cheap beer at the bar instead of the more potent drinks that he would love to have intoxicate him. After drinking heavily over the past years, mild drinks had little or no effect on him; he'd attended too many parties in his teenage years to fall victim to the ludicrous delusion that rich boys were good boys.  
  
Tonight, he wasn't out to get smashed, even if the thought was relatively tantalizing in the back of his mind. He needed a little assistance from his senses to keep his eyes on the prize, even if it cost him a significant gap in his pocketbook.   
  
Vibrant, swaying, lights and dancing shadows embedding the wall formed a perfect curtain to veil himself from sins and distorted eyes that filtered through the stagnant air. It was so filthy, infected, and he was conscious of himself further tainting the abhorrent population. He'd be lucky if Wufei would even glance in his direction; even if he'd kept him from selling his sex for one night, Wufei has still felt the lust radiating from his eyes and the fervor smoldering from his skin. By now, he's be used to discerning that emotion from unfamiliar men.  
  
Duo realized, sipping his watered-down beer in the curtained shadows, that he was unconsciously making assumptions that quite possibly may not apply. He had no idea how much life Wufei had wasted in this pathetic hole of sex and sin, but really, how much time would it take to break a man? Duo wouldn't last a week. Although, he had only briefly known true poverty and had been very young, so he didn't know what he would do in desperation.  
  
And again, he was making assumptions-- he had no reason to believe that Wufei was homeless, needy, or any other term of destitution.  
  
Rhythm slipped into a beat-less, frantic slur of pulsation, the spotlights shifting to bathe a boy who must have been 17 or 18, wearing nothing to conceal his manhood but a strip of leather textile fashioned like a Speedo, enthusiastically propelling his body in a perverted manner toward the fat assholes who were nearly drooling over his mere presence. The boy wasn't even attractive, moving the way he was, Duo thought, surveying his wanton dance. He was nothing compared to Wufei. Whores weren't supposed to beg for sex, sex was supposed to beg for them.  
  
Duo deposited his half-drained mug on a lone barstool that had, at some point, been dragged into the shadows by some shy, misfortunate, bastard who couldn't move to the music. A playful, sadistic, grin flitted over his lips, and his small size gave him the advantage to dodge swiftly through the crowd of men as a skilled fighter would dodge an easy blow. Wufei hadn't yet graced the throng with his celestial presence, but Duo's eyes had found another target of prey, one confident, mysterious, and sexy in midnight blue clinging pants and a tapered white, button-down, shirt. His chocolaty hair fell loose and messy over his gradually slanting eyes in an indeliberately attractive style. He had a slight benefit over Duo in height, and he was incredibly built.  
  
As Duo flitted closer to him, a crooked smirk decorating his glossy lips, the man turned his head toward him, sweeping his dark, midnight, gaze over Duo's body. Keeping his motions elegant and dominant, his hand slipped around the man's waist, looking mildly over his figure with interest. He had promised, tonight, to save his appeal for Wufei, but a slight appetizer wouldn't deviate him from the main attraction. This new stranger was the first charming young man he had seen here that wasn't part of the show.  
  
He angled his chilled glower towards Duo's upturned face, obviously displeased by the casual touch. In Duo's humble opinion, he just needed to fucking chill. Why come to a club if not to look for lovin'?  
  
His hand slipped away, or at least it began to, when firm, copper fingers, not as clammy as the sweat-laden air, latched around his wrist with harsh desire, holding it firm to his hip.   
  
"I'm waiting for someone." The voice was gritty and sweet, honey-like, a rather foreign, but attractive, accent influencing his tone.   
  
"Oh yeah?" Duo smirked, cocking a chestnut eyebrow with a dangerous spark dazzling dangerously in his mischievous, vibrant, eyes. The stranger neither pulled away or initiated eye contact, nor did he affirm the statement. Tired of waiting, Duo slid his hands into the man's back pockets, bringing their abdomen and groins together. The only damn way to get something done his way was to take control. Duo tilted his face to a coy slant, studying the seemingly foreign stranger through his long bangs.   
  
"So, how long until your little friend shows up?" Duo was losing himself in his steel blue eyes so that the music, the pungent, pale smoke didn't seem to exist anymore. Those eyes were lurid, jagged like daggers piercing his very soul.  
  
The man's hands flowed up Duo's body, resting in a firm grip on his shoulders while the lights shifted, the music pitching into a lower, smoky key.  
  
"He's already here," he said, thick and accented, tipping his head to view somewhere beyond Duo's obvious line of sight.  
  
"Huh?" Duo spin around, at least whipped his head around, since the stranger's hands were burdening his shoulders. His long braid swung slackly, brushing against his own right arm.  
  
Before him on the platform was the striking vision of a familiar Chinese man with satin ebony hair falling around his shoulders in picturesque contrast with perspiring, golden, skin.  
  
Tough hands fell from Duo's shoulders, accompanied by a small shove as a farewell from the messy-haired stranger disappearing through the suddenly overwhelming sea of people. He may have tried to follow, but the man was out of sight before Duo could so much as ask for a name.  
  
But damn, he had headed straight for Wufei. Duo hadn't worked so hard at dolling up, at calming his revolted innards enough to play a while in this rat-hole to have his goal snatched away before his eyes.  
  
Dodging through the mass of bodies, his shoulders protesting against bared skin and slick materials of men who weren't about to complain, he let his body swing into auto-pilot, driven by the bizarre attraction that bound him to the beautiful stranger who called himself Wufei. The chillingly hypnotic thud of the music's drums invaded him, raping him as he neared the platform, leaving him helpless to it's melodic rhythm, unable to push it away from his person, despite his brutal attempts.   
  
Duo had utterly lost sight of the brunette who had strolled off with an eye on Duo's prize. Music coiled around his legs, dragging his footsteps over the grainy floor. It seeped through him, ascending his limbs, slowing his navigation as he swerved around the sex-propelled bodies and wandering limbs. The appendages he called his legs had suddenly gained hundreds of pounds, leaving the stranger still invisible to his eye and Wufei inching miles away with each step he took towards him.  
  
With a sudden burst of energy, Duo rather rashly shoved past a particularly large man who made him even happier that he didn't have the same job as the Asian boys, and took off toward Wufei.   
  
Somewhere between Point A and Point B he thought something along the lines of 'no man is worth this,' but suddenly he was mere feet from the stunning Point B and all his thoughts proved negative.  
  
Wufei's head was tiled back, his eyes clenched in what any stranger would label ecstasy, but Duo knew as well as the sky was blue that the emotions he was feeling were in the spectrum of panic, fear, and anxiety. Apparently, Duo had finally located the Perfect Stranger, working his way up Wufei's arched neck with pale lips that looked petal soft. Wufei trembled visibly, yet kept his arms draped around the man's shoulders and neck, his tightly clothed groin impelled unwillingly against the very evident swelling in the man's pants. Another god damned pig of a man, even if he was the sexiest pig Duo had seen in quite a while.   
  
Duo stood frozen and helpless at the scene, overwhelmed with a strange urge to take Wufei into his arms, to tell him that it would be alright. What was that? He hadn't felt that since he was eighteen. He tried to shake the feeling, knowing he had barely met the man. His emotions argued, bubbling hot beneath his skin as the smirking, chocolate-haired man left Wufei with a sizeable wad of cash in his hand.  
  
Duo hoped that money was not what he thought it was for.  
  
He snapped from his immobile stance, taking brisk strides to Wufei before any other asshole could run their paws over his delicate skin, fingering his own wad of cash as he walked.  
  
"Wufei," he started when he was close enough to know that he could hear his voice. Wufei turned his face away in what appeared to be shame.  
  
"Wufei..." Duo held the money to him, but Wufei made no motion to take it. "C'mon, just like yesterday?"  
  
Finally, inclined ebony eyes gazed into his own. "I can't. Not tonight. I... I've already got someone," he suddenly became interested with the floor, "someone who's important. One of the regulars."  
  
"I see," Duo faltered. He didn't need to ask who the man was. "Take this, anyways." He pressed the money into Wufei's palm.  
  
"I won't take it," Wufei protested at Duo's back, but his objection went unheard as he had already turned to leave the playground of the fools and the unlucky.  
  
********** 


End file.
